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LOVE HISTORY LYRICS

Anasazi

"Anasazi" (2000)

1. Lost
2. Angealism
3. Korbel
4. Masterless
5. Sown
6. Spiritual
7. The Mass
8. Phantomous
9. Voices
10. Lost (video)







1. Lost

Echoes of the black beast´s roar
Fusion of blood and water
Industrial changes pulse
The black in eyes
The pins in veins
Parody of love
Comedy in the lost century
at a tail of the meaningless comet
Cold eyes of icons
as dreadful as all the darkest demons
Shackles of grief
Chains of would-be freedom
Game of masculine
Game of lust
Unrest, emptiness
Glowing flower, the Moon and the stellar fields,
though with no respect to that magic harmony
Pompous entry in future
Suppression, abstraction
Cold fingers of tomorrow
Stiff emotions
Refusal of the deeper sights
into our souls
Needles tongue
Escape, entrance
Message to the world...lost.




2. Angealism

Too receptive hearts, extorted
The walls of horror built around
and the cold eyes of icons
whose sights are as dreadful
as all the demons from the depths of this age.

The sign of the cross
Satisfaction of crucifixion -
a nightmare upon the shoulders of mankind,
choking a little spark of Spirit
in the name of the highest Truth.

A slight suggestion of laughter
signifying your condemnation.
Sacrifice of love to worship
the Unseen, the Unknown one.

Stiff beauty of science gives life to the swelling fear
in which the dramas of everyday fights are mirrored.
The awful splendour and lust of the material values
are growing and blooming along with fear,
the fear that´s sown by a pious hand in a groove of the years.
It´s not just a sleep a moment before awakening
but death with a malicious grin....
.....a whiteness never before seen.

The fear has blinded their lives
the Sin has become a part of their breaths.
The rise of misery has begun
when the suffocation of souls has been done.
That was the age of angels.....




3. Korbel




4. Masterless

The age of purity
the lowest form of an intelligent human community, they said.
Mere satisfaction of the natural needs
and a common help to feel the mutual solidarity.
The beauty of nature walks hand in hand with longing to survive
and to adapt to the purity of soul and mind in an ingenious harmony,
full of humble respect to everything the highest force brings on.
Development of tribal solidarity
in the name of surviving in a cruel climate
and fights with the killing raiders.
The first swallows of the pious social values,
the souls and minds slowly start to trouble
in the haughty manners and lies.
A profit of the chosen ones,
a profit from blood of the innocent souls.
The beginning of a decline!




5. Sown

Perhaps it was a stellar dust that has brought a seed,
perhaps it was the highest force, that nobody dares to give it a name.
Magic mystery of the unknown incites a longing for a return and a search again,
it brings a languor for the rituals of naturism and the questions.
Just the questions...
Long time ago....such old times...the sowing in the cruel fields has begun,
the beast has arrived to share a bed with the mass.
A source shot up and offered its clearness to a new race.
A wood opened its embrace and welcomed the children of the unknown,
The plains and the mountains had a shiver in a murmur
and they have let the flames lick their backs.
The Earth moved. The first tears filled the oceans....
...or maybe it was the other way?
And then you could hear the distant voices talking for the first time
....the sowing has been done.




6. Spiritual

Fountain of knowledge springing up from the depths of ages.
The touches of the sun - stimulator of a spiritual power,
the godly paths still softly chained by blindness.
Yellow is the colour of the south, fading away beneath the dark-blue nightsky
and revealing to the enlightened few the first mystery of the incomprehensible circle.
There are the traces of long forgotten steps in an embrace of science and magic
leading to the core of the most thrilling secrecy ever.
Secrecy of a life.
So long ago future has been born, the future we still can not see.
What a chance to survive deep inside the globe!
Is there an answer to where the power of the Spirit has gone?
Why has wisdom hidden among the veils of the interstellar unknown?




7. The Mass

The mass is eternal but its shape goes through changes
Everything loses its shape, even the things of no shape.
Eternity of the past spreads in the eternity of the future
and the shape is its game!
A sea flung up a continent just to split it again and swallow....
Atlantida? Where....?!
Role of man is to destroy, to rape his own mother....
and to laugh at the majesty of time.
Role of man is to gnaw, to change and to reshape.
He forgot to caress the stars
because he has to extinguish them
and to put them below his head at night.
A huge wall of sound inside the ears
and a great pressure in the eyes -
Chronos and his laughter.
Try to kill a dragon with a needle
just like try to stop the Time......
...so try to submerge your teeth in the mass at least!
To adapt to the once created Earth
to attack a limit of impossibility
and to master Eternity.
Though a mass can not swallow up itself
and a sea can never get dry....
...just a man will breathe in and then he disappears again....
...never hearing Chronos´ laughter anymore!!!




8. Phantomous

Just like then
but alone now
I was sitting on the hill, looking around the landscape
my body
pocked with craters....drained, belonging to nobody.

Over on the horizon, where I,
so happy then,
had watched the stars through the treetops with only a mysterious glare incandescent
in the wasteland.

Thrusting through the surface of the earth
like the stumps of your trees,
breathing.....and yet.....nothing could be heard
but the strange dry rustle of sandgrains in the stillness of the air,
pervaded by a cancerous smell.

Time was long gone and the Soil was littered with memories of the beings who had yearned to know and crave everything.

In my loneliness, only the silence encircling me in its unending harmony
...just like back then...

All I could feel was the growing cold interspersed with stinging blasts of smouldering heat.

Still the landscape was unerringly phantomlike in the shimmering brilliance
...timeless...and mute.

My senses were numb as I yielded
to the pain
slowly.

Suddenly the fog began to rise from the valley
...blue and tender.

She rested on my brow,
brushing my temples with her gentle wings, caressing my eyelids
...and sleep engulfs me after all those years.

The voices have been singing in my head since then...




9. Voices




10. Lost (video)

 


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